


If Time Could Fly (I'd Still Love You)

by AgeOfMiracles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Can be seen as gen, Death POV, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11436297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeOfMiracles/pseuds/AgeOfMiracles
Summary: Why did the boy throw his clock out the window?... To see of time could fly.





	If Time Could Fly (I'd Still Love You)

Death knows time is relative. It means nothing but that means everything. Time was the ashes on the cold hard ground after a warm fire and hearty laughs. For two Brooklyn boys, time was the end. For soldiers, it was the snake hiding in the grass, coiled to strike. The big bad wolf that kept little girls up at night. For a young redhead with too much blood on her hands, it was the ghost with no face and a metal arm who hid behind the blood of his victims. One little boy didn’t have enough time. He lived, he loved and he lost. Not nearly enough. He was a soldier, a protector, a killer, a prisoner and a ghost. The violent glint he held in his eyes when someone hurt his sun never faded. Death took him once but that boy fell from his grasp with a rage filled shout.

“How dare you take me from him!” he had screamed. “He is mine, we are not to be parted” he had snarled. Death had laughed but the boy had been lost to him for many years. The other had far too much time. Enough to make any man insane. But not this one. He had nothing and everything at the same time. An empty space in his bed but the soft laugh and warmth of a young boy who had pushed back the darkness the devil had sent chasing after the man untouched by time. If the timeless boy was the eye of the storm then the ghost was the start, middle and end, constantly circling the other but never touching until the storm had ceased all together. Alone they were ice, rock, cold, death. Together, they lit up the skies with their brightness. Death hummed when the man froze, cold and alone in the Arctic. He sighed contentedly as the saw ripped through flesh and bone and the sergeant screamed as his mind was torn apart. Death waited. And he waited.  
Death screamed in frustration as a gun was held out and the Soldier rose. He angrily took a crying mother and her unborn baby when the ice melted and the Captain opened his eyes.

“Till the end of the line” they whispered to one another. Death cackled. Their promise may be forever but they were not. The first time Death tried to take the golden boy from the arms of the other, he was shoved back. That made Death angry. Time and time again he tried but to no avail. Death was spurned by these to Brooklyn boys who looked at one another like they hung on the moon. But Death, like time, is inevitable. He could wait. One day, he would have those Brooklyn boys in his icy claws. One day, Death thought, they would not escape him. For he is Death and all things have their end. He supposes he might be impressed by these two young boys. Not many can escape him once. None can escape him twice until them. Impressive or not, they will have their end and Death will be there to greet them home. They say when you make a deal with the death your days are numbered. They don’t say that the death is patient.


End file.
